A Window Closed
by Objective Mistress
Summary: Inspired by ishipmakorra. "I hope I find someone who loves me as much as you love her."


**Rating:** T

**Word Count:** ~1200

**Summary:** Inspired by ishipmakorra. "I hope I find someone who loves me as much as you love her."

**Author Note:** So this was inspired by this post on Tumblr and I'm glad to write the angst because I hate happiness and joy. Merry Christmas everyone.

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The Avatar arrives to the grand gala in the middle of the pack. Reporters swarm her, lenses flashing and questions shouted from every which direction. Well used to the media attention, Korra smiles radiantly and floats into the event in her flowing dress. She turns to look over her shoulder at the media frenzy behind her.

She sees him.

Mako is older of course. A few years of time between people does that. He's even more handsome than she remembers, clad in his dress uniform complete with medals, and topped off with pristine white gloves. He's beaming when he turns around and offers his hand to the person behind him.

It's her.

Korra scurries out of the way of the cameras and out of the spotlight. Not that this requires much effort as all heads snap in the direction of Republic City's "hottest couple."

He's so happy as he helps her out of the stretch Satomobile; his arm immediately gravitates to her waist in a subtle display of affection and support. The couple shares a look that has the air crackling between them with an unidentifiable energy. It's impossible for anyone watching to miss the connection between the two.

"How about a kiss for the cameras?"

She watches him look at Asami for a moment, his golden eyes silently asking for approval in a language all their own. She smiles and nods before pulling him into a loving kiss. Camera flashes wash over them like a wave, whistles and cheers egging the couple to continue just a bit longer to get the perfect shot. It seems like ages go on until the kiss breaks. They smile and wave at the crowd before heading further up the red carpet.

Wanting to avoid them, Korra hurries inside, swiping a drink off the first server she passes. She has no intention of getting drunk tonight, but the glass busies her hands and helps her retain her composure. Over the years she has become extremely adept at maintaining a façade of calm and control. The key was to act as if she would rather be no place than here. She flits about the gala, discussing everything from politics to proper earthbending technique. She poses for pictures and shakes hands firmly with those that are new to her.

Yet she can't seem to have her eyes leave _them_.

Their bodies are almost always touching in some fashion. As they chat with politicians and visiting dignitaries, Asami grabs his hand, their fingers threading together. It's so natural for them, how he watches for her reactions and pulls them out of a conversation she no longer desires to carry without a cue. He kisses her forehead and asks her to dance. For him, the only thing in the entire room is her.

They are in love. Everyone with eyes can see it. They are deep, fully immersed and consumed, happily drowning in the viscous sap that pulls them together.

Korra rids herself of the half-full glass on an empty table and heads for the veranda, needing the escape of the cool night air. She leans over the stone balcony and takes a few deep breaths.

Half of her wants to rejoice for her friends. Loving someone means being able to be happy for their triumphs. But the winning half of her wants to wring her hands and sob. She wishes she never let him go and that she could be the beautifully striking woman on his arm. For all her efforts, Korra never got over him. She would entertain a date here and there, but nothing ever became serious when all she could think about how the suitor's eyes weren't a warm amber.

But beneath all that turmoil was the worst conclusion of them all: he never treated her with that much love when they were together.

"Korra?"

She doesn't have to turn around to know who it is. Yet, despite how she feels, Mako and Asami are still friends. She doesn't resent them; she envies them.

Korra turns, the smile on her face genuine. "Hey there, City Boy." The nickname is so far out of use it feels foreign on her tongue.

"Asami and I have been trying to make our way over to talk to you, but you always seemed to slip away," he walks up beside her. "I've been reading about your heroics in the paper."

"I wouldn't call them that."

"Then what would you call those negotiations that you miraculously salvaged?"

"Fighting without my fists for once?" She smiles sheepishly.

His laugh is wonderful to hear. It's unrestrained and natural, and a feeling of ease settles between the two. If she were to close her eyes, she could pretend it was just like old times. This is easy. This is them. This is friendship.

"How has the force been?"

"I got promoted," he grins and points to an extra bar on his sleeve.

"Congrats, the force needs more guys like you working to keep the city safe." Feeling daring, she reaches out and touches him on the shoulder. "Asami looks stunning in that dress."

He smiles uneasily. "T-Thank you, but I'm not sure I'm the one who gets to accept that compliment."

"It's okay, I'm happy for you two." Korra knows it is most likely impossible to convince him of her sincerity in this moment.

"Really?"

"Of course," she flashes her lopsided smile in an attempt to sway him. "She's a lucky woman."

Mako nods, not quite meeting the Avatar's eyes.

She smiles sadly and places a hand on his. Her hand touches his glove and she can feel the warmth underneath the thin cotton. "I hope someday I find someone who loves me as much as you love her."

A pained look washes over his features. "Korra I—"

"There you two are!"

The Avatar's hand flies off Mako's as if burned.

Asami smiles and pulls Korra into a hug. "I've been looking everywhere for you two."

Korra pulls away and conjures up the most genuine smile she can muster. "You'll have to excuse me. I think I have to make a speech or something."

"Korra please…just a moment maybe?"

There's something new in his eyes. Regret? Guilt? Perhaps sympathy. Korra can no longer claim to know him well enough to read him.

"Invite me to the wedding, Cool Guy." She walks away without looking back.

In all honesty, maybe, if she played her cards right, she could get lucky and find someone who loved her half as much as Mako loves Asami.

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**Author Note:** Well that hurt. Blame ishipmakorra everyone! (In a lighthearted and funny way though okay guys?)


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